


Don't Look at Them. Look at Me.

by SidheLives



Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluffcember, Mistletoe, Wintersend (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/pseuds/SidheLives
Summary: When it was announced that the Inquisition would be hosting a Wintersend Ball he had immediately decided that he would make himself inconspicuously absent from the event. It was not as if anyone wanted a murderer and war criminal cluttering up the place anyway. Then Ettie had batted her long eyelashes at him and he found himself agreeing to attend. Then had come the fittings, and the tastings, and Ettie holding up swatches of various red and green fabrics for banners asking him which he thought were more festive.Each time she had presented him with hors d'oeuvres to sample or flower arrangement options he had asked the same question: "Why do you want my opinion?""Because it's your party too." She responded every time.Written for Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020Prompt: Mistletoe
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Lavellan, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Lavellan, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035954
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13
Collections: Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020





	Don't Look at Them. Look at Me.

Thom hated fancy parties.

They reminded him of Orlais, and of who he was before the Inquisition, _before the Inquisitor_ , had saved him: ladies in expensive dresses and noble lords in their gilt finery eating and laughing and filling the air of the great hall with the hum of meaningless conversation. The dress suit Josephine had insisted he wore chafed at his neck and he felt naked without his armor.

He did not want to be there.

When it was announced that the Inquisition would be hosting a Wintersend Ball he had immediately decided that he would make himself inconspicuously absent from the event. It was not as if anyone wanted a murderer and war criminal cluttering up the place anyway. Then Ettie had batted her long eyelashes at him and he found himself agreeing to attend. Then had come the fittings, and the tastings, and Ettie holding up swatches of various red and green fabrics for banners asking him which he thought were more festive. 

Each time she had presented him with hors d'oeuvres to sample or flower arrangement options he had asked the same question: "Why do you want _my_ opinion?"

"Because it's your party too." She responded every time.

The statement was ludicrous. This was _her_ party, a celebration of what _she_ had accomplished. But when she looked at him with her pale green eyes, lips curled slightly into a loving smile he found he could not argue with her.

So he did what he could to be unobtrusive to her event, staking out an empty section of wall to lean on and clasping his hands in front of him to keep them still. Ettie was busy entertaining the guests, her bright crown bobbing throughout the room as she rushed from group to group offering hospitality and accepting accolades. Part of him was sure that he could slip away without being missed and every time an Orlesian noble gave him a sideways glance before whispering hurriedly to their fellows the desire to do so grew; then he would remember her earnest insistence on his attendance, the way her face sparkled when he agreed, and he resigned himself to his place against the wall, focusing on her dexterous movement through the hall and ignoring the hateful glares.

* * *

She checked for him every chance she could. Ettiene was being pulled this way and that by Josie and Vivienne, with barely a moment to breathe between someone new she simply had to meet, but her eyes continued to stray to the place Thom had settled against the far wall. He looked so fine in his dark suit, the blue woven into the trimming brought out his eyes, even when his expression was as dour as a stormy day.

Ettiene knew he would rather not have attended, and felt a twinge of guilt each time she caught a glimpse of his gloomy expression through the crowd or heard the name Rainier whispered by the visiting nobles.

_Best not to stretch out his torture much longer_.

"Josie," Ettiene called out to the ambassador who was speaking with a group of Chantry mothers visiting from Val Royeaux.

In a flash the woman was at her elbow, moving with a quickness that never ceased to impress. "Yes, Inquisitor?"

Ettiene caught Josephine's hand. "I think we should start the dancing." She nodded in Thom's direction. "Is everything in place for us to begin?"

Josephine's eyes lit up and her lips curled in an understanding smile. "Yes, of course, everything is precisely how we discussed."

"Good." She squeezed the ambassador's hand before releasing her and heading through the crowd to where Thom was.

Ettiene knew when he saw her approaching by the way his eyes lit up and his mustache rose in a smile. She raised her hand in a slight wave as she closed the last few yards to him. "Hello, Stranger."

"Enjoying your party?" He raised one hand as if to take hers, then seemed to change his mind and pull it back. The gesture, Thom wanting to reach for her but stopping himself, was familiar and pulled a melancholic string in her chest. Thom had always been publicly standoffish from her, even as Blackwall, but since his true identity had been revealed it had become willful and pervasive. Even among their friends, where he should have felt comfortable and safe, he avoided casual intimate touches or using her name defaulting to _my lady_ or the impersonal _Inquisitor_.

Ettiene caught his hand and gently rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand. For a moment she thought he would pull back, expression tensing, but he seemed to relax. "Too much talking and praise for me. You'd think I saved the life of the Empress or something."

Thom chuckled, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. "Well earned praise, regardless of your objections.” He nodded towards the back of the room where Josephine was bobbing around a small string ensemble. "How did you slip away from our dear Ambassador?"

Just then the instruments let out a grand peal and Josephine clapped twice, quieting the guests who crowded the hall and drawing their attention.

"I didn't," Ettiene whispered, giving Thom an anticipatory grin which he tentatively returned.

"The Inquisition thanks you, our most eminent guests, for joining us to celebrate this festive day," Josephine began, promoting a number of the crowd to raise their glasses to her. "The Inquisitor is honored by your presence and wishes you all a joyful season and many happy returns. Now, if you all would please clear the center of the room, we will begin the Ball proper." The masses shuffled at this request receding to the sides of the room, excited whispers peppering the shuffling of feet. 

"Thank you," Josephine continued once the center of the room was adequately empty. "As is customary, the floor will be opened by our host: I present Inquisitor Ettiene Lavellan, escorted by Ser Thom Rainier."

All eyes in the room turned to Ettiene, but her eyes were on Thom. He stiffened as his name rolled from Josephine's lips, staring at her with wide eyes. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as his attention slid to Ettiene's face, confusion and something like guilt washing over his expression.

"Dance with me." Her voice was small in the overfilled room, the murmured utterance traveling no farther than it needed to reach his ears.

"Ettie, I don't know if—" he cut off his breathless stammer and closed his eyes for a moment, visibly settling himself, then he opened them again and offered her his arm. "I would be honored, Inquisitor."

He led her to the dance floor in complete silence. Even masked, the Orlesian outrage was palpable, brushing over Ettiene's skin like grasping thorns. She, however, barely felt their sting: too busy struggling to maintain her composure as Thom, _her Thom_ , looking as fine as a summer moonrise, drew her across the floor for all the world to see.

* * *

The sound of his pounding heart was deafening in Thom's ears. _At least it drowns out the whispers_ , he thought, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead despite the flurries of movement at the edges of his vision as he led Ettie through the crowd to the dance floor.

What was she thinking? Surely Josephine had objected, how had she allowed Ettie to proceed with what was undoubtedly political suicide? Having him in attendance was bad enough, but to have him escort her?

"Relax." Ettie leaned in slightly to whisper, petting his hand gently as they walked.

He tried to, for her, tried to ignore the anxiety stiffening his back and cramping his legs. How was she so calm? He looked down at her, this tiny, unassuming woman whose fortitude dwarfed his own. She smiled easily and nodded respectful greetings to those they passed, untroubled by concerns of status and reputation.

He began trying to think of how he could save her from herself, bow out gracefully without causing further scandal, but had barely begun to consider when they reached the room's center and the music began. Ettie's hand found his left and his right automatically slid to her slim waist, feet falling into steps thought long forgotten.

"Don't look at them. Look at me."

Thom hadn't even realized how he was staring at the crowd over Ettie's head until she spoke. He flushed with embarrassment, looking into her eyes. "My apologies, Lady. I am preoccupied."

"You're worried about me," she said matter of factly.

He nodded. "Obviously. You're being reckless." Ettie smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. "Again." He conceded.

"I'm a big girl, Thom. I can look after myself." He twirled her under his arm, and she clung closer to him as she came back around. "And more than that, I have Josie looking out for me."

"And if you do something that even she can't protect you from?" He gestured with his head towards the room at large.

"I'm sure Leliana could make the problem go away with just a few assassinations." Her tone was flippant and Thom guffawed before pulling back to look at her face to see how serious she was. Her smile was dazzling and his feet faltered a moment at the sight.

"Or maybe," she went on as the music and their steps slowed at the center of the room. "I don't need as much protection as you think."

She flicked her eyes up towards the ceiling and Thom's attention followed them to see a festive garland of green speckled with white berries hanging just above their heads. He blinked up at it, the skin around his eyes crinkling in thought. The plant was familiar but he couldn't place it. As the song ended and the attendees began to respectfully applaud he looked down to Ettie for some explanation of her gesture, only for her lips to press firmly against his, her hand curling around his neck.

_Mistletoe._

Thom's arm tightened around her instinctively even as his mind floundered. She was a fool, a damned fool, and he was a fool for going along with her. The sound of applause seemed to redouble, joining with his pounding heart into a climactic crescendo. He couldn't _not_ kiss her back, his body unwilling to refuse her touch even as his mind asserted that this was the worst possible situation the night could have led to. He felt her laughter against his lips and as the kiss broke he realized it had not been his panic that had made the ovation louder. Thom was certain he even heard scattered cheers.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" Ettie beamed up at him.

"Why would you risk so much for me? Your reputation will never recover." He gaped at her.

"Hang my reputation." She kissed him again, a quick peck to the outside corner of his mouth. "You're mine, Thom Rainier, and I want the whole of Thedas to know it. _That_ is worth more than the approval of any and all noble houses of Orlais, or anywhere for that matter."

"Josephine would probably disagree," Thom grumbled, hiding the way his heart seemed to swell with his gruff tone.

"Josie wouldn't have helped me plan this if she disagreed." Ettie shook her head disbelievingly. "Love is far more valuable than pride."

Thom stared down into her effervescent green eyes, shocked still even as couples began to filter onto the dance floor around them. "How is it that I could possibly deserve you after everything I've done?"

"You make me better by believing that I am." She gently caressed his cheek with the blade of her hand. "It's my turn to do that for you. You _do_ deserve me, you _are_ worthy of my love, and I will _never_ let you go." She nuzzled into his chest. "So you had better get used to hearing it."


End file.
